


Nogotiations and Safewords

by Kahtya Sofia (KahtyaSofia)



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Bondage, Breathplay, GK Anon Kink Meme, M/M, One Shot, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safewords
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-14
Updated: 2011-06-14
Packaged: 2017-10-20 09:59:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/211539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KahtyaSofia/pseuds/Kahtya%20Sofia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the following prompt on the GK Anon Kink Meme:</p><p><b>Pairing:</b> Brad/Nate<br/><b>Kink1:</b> bondage (immobility)<br/><b>Optional Kink2:</b> Safeword usage<br/><b>Prompt details:</b> Nate and Brad are having a grand old time with a bondage scene, but something goes a little too far, and the sub uses his safeword. Focus a decent amount on the aftercare. Either party could be the sub; I have no preference on that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nogotiations and Safewords

Brad’s got them both naked from the waist up. Nate is writhing beneath him, their cocks are pressed together through cotton and denim, and Nate’s hands are everywhere on Brad’s body. He’s kissing Nate, holding his head still with both hands and plundering his mouth. Their tongues glide wetly against one another and their breath mingles.

Something is building inside of Brad. He’s restless despite a clear objective. He’s got Nate beneath him, warm and ready and eager and it’s not enough. Brad skims his hands along Nate’s throat, over his collarbones, along his arms until he grasps his wrists. Brad shoves Nate’s hands over his head and pins them to the mattress, his grip deliberately bruising. Leveraging himself up, he uses his knees to shove Nate’s legs apart and straddles his thighs, using his own weight to keep Nate wide open.

Brad bites Nate’s lower lip. He pulls back and sees the evidence of his own teeth. Nate swears. He pushes his naked chest up into Brad’s and the heat is scalding. Brad fights back when Nate cants his hips trying to free himself. Brad grips Nate’s wrists tighter, knowing that’s the next place Nate’ll test for a weakness. Brad likes that Nate struggles. He likes that Nate is a challenge to restrain and he welcomes it.

His cock is so hard it hurts. It’s pressing hard against his jeans and the louder Nate breathes, the harder he fights, the fuller Brad’s dick gets.

Beneath him, Nate goes limp. Brad looks down at him, aware his own breathing sounds like he’s just sprinted a mile.

Nate stares up at him, eyes bright, cheeks flushed and his mouth red and swollen. “Are you asking?” he inquires in a low, rough voice.

Brad gives a sharp nod. “Yeah, I am.” The knot in his gut loosens at Nate’s easy understanding and acceptance, even as his heart beats even faster knowing he can have what he wants; what he needs.

He lowers himself to cover Nate, pressing their chests together. Brad buries his face in Nate’s neck, inhaling his scent deeply. He bites hard at his earlobe and smiles at the sound of Nate’s gasp.

“How far?” Nate sounds like he’s already strangled.

“All the way,” Brad growls against the shell of Nate’s ear as he tongues it and smiles when he feels Nate shiver. “I want you helpless.”

“I’m never helpless,” Nate rejoins.

Well Brad knows it. “I’m counting on it.”

“Restraint only, no distress,” Nate demands.

Brad bites down hard on the skin just above Nate’s nipple and answers his gasp with his own moan. “Agreed.” He licks at the bite mark he’s just left on Nate’s chest. “I want my cock in your ass.”

“Is that it?” Nate queries even as he pushes up, trying to dislodge Brad.

“That’s it.” Brad doesn’t want toys tonight. He likes to throat-fuck Nate but that’s not what he’s aching for now. “I want you struggling.” Brad bites Nate’s nipple, holding it between his teeth, flicking it with his tongue and Nate squirms and swears.

“So you can punish me for it?” Nate twists a wrist in vain. He shifts one leg but Brad’s weight is too much.

“Fuck yeah.” He lets Nate’s nipple slide through his teeth. “I’m gonna turn your ass red with my hands.”

“Fine. I want your hands on my throat while you fuck me.”

Nate’s demand makes Brad groan against the sweat-damp skin of his sternum. Brad’s cock surges, throbbing at the knowledge he’ll get to wrap his hands around Nate’s elegant neck and squeeze.

“You got it,” Brad agrees. “I’ll get you off just before I come.” It’s not a concession, it’s a matter of logistics since Nate wants Brad’s hands on his throat. He pushes himself up so he’s hovering over Nate. “Nate, look at me,” Brad demands and waits until Nate is looking right into his eyes. “What’s your safeword?”

“Crimson,” Nate says clearly, enunciating with care.

Brad nods once. “Crimson. If I challenge you with ‘diamond’, you respond with ‘blue diamond’,” he orders.

“Diamond; blue diamond,” Nate repeats.

“If I challenge with star, you respond with northern star.”

“Star, northern star.”

Brad smiles down at Nate. “Don’t want to risk that sharp mind of yours to the effects of hypoxia.”

“No, sir,” Nate responds, throwing all of his weight and strength into trying to shove Brad off of him.

Apparently negotiations have closed.

Brad manages to keep Nate pinned, but only just. He uses one hand to grip Nate’s jaw hard enough to hurt. He holds Nate still and forces a kiss, licking into Nate’s mouth even as he tries to evade Brad’s invading tongue.

Finally, he pushes himself off of the bed. He has supplies to retrieve. Crossing the room to the bureau, Brad opens a lower drawer. Beneath a stack of rarely worn shirts, he locates a large roll of electrical tape and his Ka-Bar.

Returning to the bed, Brad holds up the knife for Nate to see. He sets it on the bedside table, within easy reach of his right hand. It’s already unsheathed. Brad holds the roll of electrical tape in his teeth and lunges for Nate.

As always, Nate’s ready for him.

Obviously, Brad likes bondage. He likes to fuck Nate while he’s immobile but he’s never, ever liked Nate to submit. Their power dynamic is fluid but neither one of them ever just fucking gives it up.

Nate gives Brad the fight he’s looking for; the fight he needs. His cock is ready to punch through the zipper of jeans by the time he get’s Nate flipped over and pressed face down into the mattress.

Brad locks Nate’s wrists together in the small of his back. With his other hand, he pulls the tape roll from between his teeth and bites the loose end. Tearing off a long strip of the black adhesive, Brad wraps it around Nate’s wrists several times. When he’s done, there’s a two inch wide band securing Nate’s hands.

“Fucker,” Nate growls.

“Language,” Brad admonishes.

He straddles Nate’s hips and sits right on his round, firm ass. Brad winds tape around and around Nate’s arms, just below his elbows. He tears it with his teeth. He places the next band just below Nate’s biceps. The restraints strain Nate’s shoulders but not too much. He’d said no distress and Brad had to fucking honor that.

Brad reaches for the fly of Nate’s jeans and has to evade well aimed and powerful kicks.

“No,” Nate protests as Brad tugs the jeans down over his hips.

“Like you have a choice,” he snarls in response, smacking the flat of his hand on the pale flesh he reveals as he strips off the last of Nate’s clothes.

Brad locks Nate’s legs between his own and spanks Nate’s ass. He watches the muscles tense beneath the increasingly reddening skin.

“Get off me, you asshole,” Nate demands, the faintest tone of fear leaking into his voice.

“Not ‘til I’m done with everything I’m gonna do to this gorgeous ass.” Brad runs both hands over Nate’s ass cheeks. He lifts one hand and brings it down hard with a loud smack. He does this several times until Nate is squirming and swearing. Brad turns Nate’s ass bright red.

He can’t wait to fuck him.

Reaching behind him, Brad gets a strip of tape around Nate’s ankles and it’s enough to give him a brief advantage. He shifts until he can secure Nate’s ankles with several more strands.

“Let me go, bastard.” Nate’s only defense now is to try to roll out of Brad’s reach but they both know it’s futile.

Brad doesn’t bother to respond verbally. His reply is to bind Nate’s calves with the electrical tape. When that’s done, he binds his lower thighs together, just above the knee. Nate’s fully restrained now and as soon as Brad’s dick is up his ass, he’ll be immobile.

“Jesus, what the fuck do you want?” Nate asks with just the right amount of apprehension.

“I want to fuck your ass,” Brad says simply. He strips off his own jeans and climbs onto the bed next to Nate’s prone form. He reaches into the bedside table and retrieves the lube. “Get your ass in the air,” he orders, delivering several sharp blows to the red skin of Nate’s ass.

Brad is rough when he pulls and tugs Nate’s hips, dragging him onto his knees. With his arms bound tightly behind him, Nate’s face is buried in the bedclothes. He can’t move now and his ass is Brad’s for the taking.

He drizzles the cold slick right into the crack of Nate’s ass and laughs at his surprised and angry gasp. With his thumb, Brad shoves the lube into Nate’s tight hole. Nate can barely squirm.

“Please don’t do this,” Nate pleads but now it’s token.

Brad can tell by the way Nate’s tight, pink hole is clenching that he’s fucking turned on. He’s as ready to be fucked as Brad is to fuck him.

Pouring more lube into his hand, Brad uses it to slick his cock. He coats himself thickly, stroking slowly and listening to the slippery wet sound of it. In front of him, Nate is struggling against his bonds. Brad’s got him too trussed up for him to move much but he always makes a good show it. Brad slowly jacks himself as he admires the play of Nate’s muscles as he shifts and strains against the tape. His skin is shiny with sweat and his hands are the dusky pink that indicates a mild restriction of blood flow.

It’s so fucking hot to watch that Brad’s balls ache.

He brings his hand down hard a few times on Nate’s reddened ass. He spreads Nate’s ass cheeks wide and lines himself up. Brad gives one hard shove of his hips and rams his cock into Nate’s hole.

Nate shouts and swears. Brad knows he cries out mostly in passion but also a little in pain and that’s good. He grabs Nate’s hips and fucks him, fast and hard. The sound of skin on skin is loud, nearly as loud as Nate’s groans. He’s still struggling against Brad, trying to pull away, trying to break his bonds. It makes his ass squeeze tight around Brad’s dick and that sensation makes Brad gasp and moan.

Reaching for the bindings on Nate’s arms, Brad uses them to leverage him upward. Nate cries out at the shift of Brad’s cock in his ass. Wrapping his arms around Nate’s body, Brad brings him in close. He buries his nose behind Nate’s ear and inhales. The scent of Nate sends a fresh surge of blood to Brad’s dick.

He tilts Nate forward slightly. Brad loves the pliable way Nate moves, all wrapped up in his bindings. He curls his fingers around the graceful column of Nate’s neck, angling his hands to restrict, not compress.

“Ready?” he asks.

“Yes,” Nate whispers.

Brad picks up the power and the tempo of his thrusts as he closes his fingers around Nate’s throat. He slows Nate’s blood and breath slightly. Brad feels the harsh rasp of Nate’s breathing. He watches Nate’s face flush, his mouth falls open as he struggles for air. Nate’s eyes glaze slightly and his resistance wanes. Brad fucks Nate hard even as his body relaxes around him.

Nate gasps when Brad releases him, sucking in a single deep breath. He falls forward and Brad holds him upright by the restraints on his arms. Brad slams himself in and out of Nate’s ass as Nate struggles to get his breath back.

Brad doesn’t let him recover. He wraps his fingers around Nate’s throat and carefully presses. He’s mindful not to leave marks that won’t be covered by the collar of Nate’s shirt. Brad squeezes and Nate struggles. His face turns that familiar and arousing shade of dull red.

Nate gasps when Brad releases him, a shudder rolling through his entire body. Brad feels it in his cock where it’s still buried balls-deep in Nate’s ass. He pulls Nate backward into his body, feeling the heat of him. He wraps his arms around Nate’s heaving chest and holds him.

Pressing his lips to the shell of Nate’s ear, Brad says in a low voice, “Diamond.”

“Blue diamond,” Nate gasps immediately.

Brad smiles against the side of Nate’s neck. He glances down and sees Nate’s cock, hard and dripping. It bounces with each of Nate’s indrawn breaths. Brad reaches one hands, grasps Nate’s dick and strokes it. Nate moans loudly.

“Fuck,” he groans, when Brad palms the weeping head.

“Not yet,” Brad says sternly. “I’ve got some more playing I want to do.”

He tilts Nate forward again. Brad wraps his fingers around Nate’s throat. “Ready?”

“Fuck yeah,” Nate hisses.

Brad fucks his ass as he restricts Nate’s breathing. He watches Nate’s face suffuse with blood, feels him struggle and strain around and against him. It’s all so fucking beautiful; it feels so fucking good.

Nate’s mouth moves, forming a word. His voice is rough, barely audible. The hair on the back of Brad’s neck stands straight up and gooseflesh forms on his arms. He releases Nate’s throat and pulls him backward roughly.

“Crimson,” Nate gasps. He sucks in a deep, shuddering breath and speaks again, stronger this time. “Crimson.”

Brad lunges for his Ka-Bar. He holds Nate’s body pressed tight to his own as his hand finds the familiar hilt. He can’t breathe. His heart is slamming in his chest. Brad is moving as if he’s underwater, slow and sluggish.

The knife is between them now and Brad slices cleanly through the tape, freeing Nate’s arms.

“Nate, you’re okay,” he says desperately, carefully helping him down to the mattress. “Breathe, Nate. I’ve got you. You’re okay. I’m right here.”

Nate props himself on his elbows, his chest heaving with each gasping inhalation. Brad carefully runs the knife blade through the bindings on his legs.

“You’re free, Nate,” he soothes, throwing the Ka-Bar onto the table with a loud clatter. “You can move now. I’ve got you. You’re okay.”

Brad drapes himself carefully over Nate’s body. He wants to comfort and reassure him without adding to Nate’s distress. Brad realizes he, too, needs to be comforted; he needs to be reassured that Nate’s okay. He runs his hands over Nate’s back and down his arms. He strokes one palm over Nate’s sweaty hair. Brad presses his face to the back of Nate’s neck, he kisses the straining tendon.

“Slow down, Nate,” he urges, as quiet and calm as he can manage. Brad’s hands tremble as he skims them over Nate’s body, feeling him shiver and shake. Nate’s breathing is frantic, Brad knows he’s in danger of hyperventilating. “Easy, Nate. Breathe slowly. Come on, breathe in for an eight-count. Breathe out for an eight-count.”

Nate starts to tear at the strips of tape still clinging to his skin. His sob breaks Brad’s heart. He has no idea what the fuck happened.

Brad places his hands over Nate’s to try to still his frantic movements. “Easy, easy,” he croons. “I’ll take care of that. Come on, turn over.”

Gently, he urges Nate to turn onto his back. He runs his hands softly over Nate’s sweat-slick skin. Nate finally complies, letting Brad ease him over. His eyes are wild and his chest still heaves with each labored breathe. Brad sits up to cradle Nate’s head with both hands. He runs his thumbs along Nate’s cheekbones soothingly.

“Nate? Hey, what happened? What’s wrong?” he asks, willing Nate to look at him.

Nate’s hands lift to grasp Brad’s wrists in a bruising grip. He seems to be coming back to himself and Brad thinks he’s breathing just a little easier. At least he hopes it’s not wishful thinking. He continues to stroke his thumbs along Nate’s cheekbones. He’s murmuring nonsense now, keeping his voice as low and steady as he can, knowing that if he panics too, he’ll be failing Nate when he needs Brad most.

“I’m sorry,” Nate says, finally meeting Brad’s eyes. The fear is still there, but at least now there’s also a small spark of reason.

“Hey, nothing to be sorry for,” Brad says. “Can you tell me what happened?”

Nate swallows hard, his lips look parched. “I don’t know.” His voice is barely above a whisper. “I was feeling so good. Your dick was so hard inside of me. I could feel you and hear you and smell you. I was fucking flying. I tried to take a breath and something about it made me feel like I did in the pool back in BRC.”

“Oh fuck,” Brad sighs. He closes his eyes against the pain of realization. He understands Nate’s terror. He shares it. Brad nuzzles the moist skin of Nate’s throat. He mouths along Nate’s jaw and places a soft kiss on his chapped lips. “I’m so sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything,” Nate whispers. “Nothing I didn’t want; that I didn’t negotiate.”

“I’m still sorry you had to go through this,” Brad replies. He sits up and begins to arrange the pillows. He helps Nate to sit back against them.

Brad stands quickly, tugging down the bedclothes and encouraging Nate to climb beneath them. He tucks the covers all around Nate’s still trembling body.

“I’ll be right back,” he says, leaning down and running a hand through Nate’s hair. He waits until Nate meets his eyes. “I’ll just be gone a few seconds. Okay?”

Nate gives a single, stiff nod.

Brad goes to the kitchen and pulls an apple juice drink box from the refrigerator. They keep a small stock of these specifically for nights they play a little harder. Just like tonight.

Returning to the bedroom, Brad climbs beneath the covers with Nate. He lies back against the pillows and tugs Nate to lean back against him. Brad folds himself around Nate, lending his strength and his warmth. He holds the drink box for Nate, realizes his own hands are still trembling slightly, and watches Nate sip hesitantly at the straw.

“That’s good,” he murmurs, running his palm over Nate’s forehead and his hair. He rubs one leg along the lengths of both of Nate’s. Brad kisses Nate’s sweaty temple and feels another violent shudder run through him.

He sets aside the drink box. Brad lifts one of Nate’s arms and begins to gently remove the tacky strips of tape that still cling to him. Tossing the tape aside, Brad does the same to Nate’s second arm.

“Sorry for the massive mood kill,” Nate mutters morosely.

Brad wraps his arms around Nate’s body and pulls him close. He nuzzles Nate’s ear, squeezes his eyes shut and struggles to steady his own breathing. “Don’t worry about it. Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah, finally,” Nate admits. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “I don’t understand what happened. I was feeling so good. I felt safe. I knew I wasn’t drowning, but I could see that pool so clearly. It started to feel like water was closing over my head, but I knew it wasn’t.”

Brad runs his hands over Nate’s chest. He skims them up over his shoulders and down his arms. Rhythmically, he does this over and over, willing warmth and comfort into Nate’s body. “It’s over now,” he says, taking a deep breath of his own. “Just let me take care of you.”

“Brad, I’m fine,” Nate protests.

“Shhh,” Brad admonishes. “You need this, Nate. This is part of my responsibility for you.”

Nate chuckles darkly. “Yes, _sir_.”

Brad smiles, relief washing through him that Nate seems to be returning to himself. His presses another kiss to his temple.

Tossing the bedclothes aside slightly, Brad gently removes the tape strands from Nate’s legs. He tosses everything to floor. Nate is his priority for the foreseeable future; he’ll clean the mess tomorrow.

Brad rummages in the drawer of the second bedside table until he comes up with the bottle of massage oil he keeps there. He turns back to Nate and pats his hip. “Turn over for me,” he says. “Face down.”

Nate moves stiffly, slowly; as if all of his muscles are sore. He settles down onto the pillows with a deep sigh.

“Now, just relax,” Brad says. “Tell me if anything hurts.”

He pours oil into the palm of one hand. The subtle scent of sandalwood drifts up to him. Brad tosses the bottle aside and rubs his palms together. He begins to smooth the oil into the tortured flesh of Nate’s ass.

Beneath him, Nate moans his pleasure. Brad smiles. He runs his hands over Nate’s skin, easing the residual stinging and soothing the redness. It’s now, when Nate can’t see his face, that Brad lets himself process the fear and the relief of past several minutes.

Nate’s terror had been palpable and it had scared the fuck out of Brad. He remembers the sourness of his own fear as it had coiled in his belly. At the time, he’d felt like he wasn’t moving fast enough, like he wouldn’t be able to do what he needed to for Nate.

Brad places a kiss between Nate’s shoulders. “So, tell me what happened.”

He feels, as much as he hears, Nate take a deep breath and exhale slowly. Brad doesn’t want to hold the post-mortem anymore than Nate does but neither of them can afford to ignore what was essentially a freak-out.

“It really was an old fashioned flashback and your garden variety anxiety attack.” Nate sounds morose and embarrassed.

Brad skims his oily hands up Nate’s firm back and presses an open-mouthed kiss on the top of his shoulder. “There was nothing about the bondage that triggered a memory? I didn’t squeeze you too hard? Did I say something?”

Nate moans into the pillow beneath his head when Brad squeezes his still-tense shoulders and kneads the muscles there. “No, nothing like that. You didn’t do a damn thing wrong. I think my brain made a connection between the lack of air underwater and the lack of air under your hands. It didn’t make a distinction between a stressful situation and an erotic one.”

Brad rubs oil into Nate’s ass again, noting the red was fading into a warm shade of pink. “So you _were_ enjoying yourself?” Brad asks, just beginning to dance around his own anxiety.

“Fuck yeah,” Nate sighs as Brad shifts and begins to massage the backs of his thighs and calves. Muscles give way easily now, relaxing almost as soon as he touches them. “Nothing you did caused it. I just wish I’d waited until after you’d gotten off.”

Brad huffs a laugh before he realizes just what Nate means. He urges Nate to turn onto his back so he can see Brad’s face. “Look at me,” he orders. “None of that matters. As long as you’re okay.” Brad cradles Nate’s cheek with one hand runs the other one over his chest and belly. “You’re more important than my hardon.”

Nate chuckles. “What about _my_ hardon?”

When Nate rolls his hips slightly, Brad glances down and sees Nate’s cock is semi-hard. It’s only beginning to darken in color as it arches gracefully toward Nate’s thigh. Even as he watches, Nate’s dick gives a slight bounce and thickens slightly.

Brad’s as relieved as he is aroused. “Think you’re up for it?” he asks, adding a small amount of oil to his hand.

“Pretty sure, yeah,” Nate says breathlessly when Brad wraps his slick fingers around him.

Brad watches Nate’s face as he strokes his cock. He’s looking for signs of distress sure, but he also just fucking loves to watch Nate come apart beneath him. Brad places soft kisses along the line of Nate’s jaw, loving the rough feel of stubble on his lips. He presses his lips to the corner of Nate’s mouth right as he gasps so Brad lingers there and watches.

Nate’s cock grows longer and thicker in Brad’s hand. He feels the rush of blood beneath his fingers as they glide over the smooth velvet of Nate’s dick. It’s fully hard now and Brad feels small drops of wetness collect on his palm each time he swipes it over the tip.

He keeps watching. Nate’s eyes are open. His lips are parted and he’s gasping, sometimes moaning. They’re all sounds of pleasure and Brad feels each one of them in his gut. His own cock is hard again, standing straight and firm. He aches to press himself against Nate, to thrust against the naked skin of his hip. Brad resists the urge. This is about Nate.

Nate’s hands are on Brad now, clutching tightly before they skate away and brush over sensitive skin. This touch Brad allows himself to lean into.

“Fuck,” Nate breathes, “right there. Just like that.”

Brad shifts to hover over him and Nate looks right into his eyes. “Can you come?” he asks. “Like this.”

One of Nate’s hands clutches at his ribcage and the other has a tight grip on his shoulder. He doesn’t look away from Brad’s eyes. “Yeah,” Nate groans. “Don’t stop. Please don’t fucking stop.”

Brad doesn’t stop. He jerks Nate’s cock with intent. He watches him closely; letting Nate’s every breath ghost over his face. He’s so fucking happy that Nate’s okay; that now he’s shaking and gasping in pleasure instead of panic.

“Fuck, Brad,” Nate’s cry is strangled and his hands on Brad’s body are painful in their grip. He squeezes his eyes closed and arches into Brad’s hand.

Brad strokes Nate through it. He feels each heated pulse of Nate’s cock and each scalding ribbon of come that slides down over his fingers. Nate’s face is flushed and his breathing ragged but this time, it’s from ecstasy and it remains the single most beautiful thing Brad’s ever seen.

He releases Nate’s cock carefully. He cleans his hand on the bed sheet because he’s not getting out of this bed for anything. A part of Brad is enjoying the fragrant heat of Nate’s body but another part of him still needs to care for Nate, to watch over him in the aftermath.

Brad runs a hand over Nate’s hair yet again. He watches his face intently, seeing only signs of post-orgasmic bliss. “Better now?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Nate says quietly, his voice rough from his own shouts.

Brad starts at the sudden feel of Nate’s hand wrapping around his dick.

Nate chuckles at his reaction.

Brad pushes his hand away gently. “You need to rest,” he says, running his hands over Nate’s torso. “Your emotions ricocheted on you tonight and you need to take it easy.”

“Okay,” Nate says agreeably. “I can roll over and you can rub yourself off against my ass.”

Brad’s cock jumps at the suggestion but still, he halts Nate in mid roll. He’s not about to abuse Nate’s trust and take advantage of any residual vulnerability. “I’ll be fine. You just go to sleep.”

Nate stares hard at him for several long moments before a slight edge of anger bleeds into his expression. “I’m not made of fucking glass, Brad,” he says tightly.

“A fact I’m well aware of,” Brad says because he is; very well aware.

“I understand what happened. I’ve processed it. It’s dealt with. I’m all squared away.” Nate’s tone is firm and his words are unequivocal, yet still, Brad sees doubt creep along his features. “Unless you’re not … unless you don’t …”

Brad kisses Nate hard. He pulls back only far enough to speak against his lips, “No. Just shut the fuck up, Nate. Don’t even go there.”

He shifts until he’s lying between Nate’s spread thighs. Brad locates the bottle of oil and this time he smoothes it onto his own hard cock. He lifts one of Nate’s legs slightly, creating a slight cradle in the juncture of his hip and thigh. Brad presses his slick erection into that cradle.

Propping himself on one hand, Brad uses the other to press his dick to Nate’s hot skin. He moves his hips slowly at first, fucking himself carefully against Nate’s body. He keeps his eyes open, watching Nate’s face and letting himself be watched in return. He’s enjoying this. Brad wants to get himself off against Nate’s body. Just thinking about it sends a fresh surge through his cock. Nate needs to know this so Brad’s going to let him see it.

It’s not more than a dozen thrusts before Brad feels his orgasm rise. Nate’s watching him closely, his eyes roaming restlessly over Brad’s face. He resists the urge to close his eyes and bury his face in Nate’s neck. Everything about Nate turns Brad on, this night has changed nothing so he lets Nate watch him come.

Sizzling bolts of electricity rocket through Brad’s body as his orgasm builds. They shoot up the length of his spine and ricochet through his rapidly pumping hips. His balls are heavy between his own legs and they begin to rise up toward his body. Just a few more thrusts of his dick along Nate’s warm, slick skin and Brad is going to come.

“Fuck,” he breaths, holding Nate’s gaze. “You feel so good. You’re making me come.” Brad always chooses his words carefully.

His orgasm slams through him violently. His rapidly shifting emotions and the intensity of whatever this is with Nate combine and strip Brad of all control. He keeps his eyes open, despite the difficulty, and shouts mindlessly. His cock pulses and throbs against Nate’s hip. He comes, thick, hot stringy ropes and it seems endless. By the time his muscles relax their paralyzing grip, he’s coating Nate’s chest and belly with copious puddles of spunk.

He collapses to his elbows and kisses Nate in between gasping, shuddering breaths. “I know you’re ready for sleep ‘cause I’m fucking exhausted,” he says finally.

“Yeah,” Nate says in a gravelly voice, his words slurring slightly. “I am pretty tired now.”

Brad cleans Nate with the edge of the sheet he knows he’ll have to change come morning. He flops down on his back, pillows piled behind him. He ignores Nate’s protests and tugs his body into the circle of Brad’s arms. He cradles Nate to him, his back to Brad’s chest. He pushes Nate’s head back onto his shoulder and shushes him. “Go to sleep, Nate,” he orders gently. “I’ll be right here. I’ve got you.”


End file.
